Alive
by Lia Whyteleafe
Summary: The snow is tainted with blood. The air echoes with the cry of ravens. Athos is standing in a forest of trees and corpses. Tag to 1x04.
1. Chapter 1

**Alive**

 **Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything.**

The snow is tainted with blood. The air echoes with the cry of ravens.

Athos is standing in a forest of trees and corpses.

He looks down. This one is lying apart from the others. He's been wounded in the head, but someone's wrapped a makeshift bandage around the injury. It has done very little to stop the blood from flowing.

Athos wishes he could recall the names of the twenty-one. Then he remembers that he didn't bother to learn the names of half of them. He doesn't even know the name of the body he is looking down on, but he remembers the face. This Musketeer was a marksman, a man with dancing eyes and a smile filled with life and laughter.

Then he hears it: a faint rattle of air through parted lips. He kneels down and leans in close, daring to hope, something he has not felt for a long time…

Athos hears it again. He feels a faint wisp of warmth in the cold air.

"He's alive!" he cries. "This one's alive!"

Before he knows it, someone else is kneeling beside him and placing a hand on the marksman's throat.

"He's alive, but he's freezin'. He needs help now or he'll die."

xxx

There are twenty corpses. Athos knows that they are lucky to even have one survivor.

"What's his name?" he asks the man riding on the opposite side of the cart. He recognises this Musketeer as well: a fighter with a fiery spirit.

They both look down on the figure lying in the cart. The twenty have been left where they are – for now. If they don't want another to be added to that number, they have to get him to safety.

"Aramis," is the reply. "Mine's Porthos."

There is a short silence. Then Athos realises that Porthos is looking at him expectantly.

It would be rude not to say anything. "I'm Athos."

"Know what's botherin' me?" The words come out as a growl. "How many bodies were there?"

"Twenty. Why?"

Then Athos realises. Twenty bodies. One survivor.

Twenty-two Musketeers were sent to Savoy.

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

 **DISCLAIMER:** **I don't own anything.**

As soon as they get the lone survivor back to Paris, Athos is dispatched to find a doctor. He asks why the garrison surgeon can't help Aramis.

"Aramis _is_ the surgeon," replies Treville, his face heavy and as grey as the sky. "He's as close as we can get to one."

Athos cannot find the local physician, but his apprentice is there – a gentle-faced man with a calm demeanour. He follows Athos back to the garrison and immediately sets about tending the wounded Musketeer.

"He keeps askin' for someone called Marsac." Porthos hasn't left Aramis' side since they returned.

Athos vaguely remembers the name, but cannot put a face to it. Then he realises something. "Did you bandage his head?"

Porthos shakes his head. "No."

"Neither did I."

xxx

Both Athos and Porthos continue to visit Aramis as he recovers. The apprentice physician is clearly a skilled surgeon, but he cannot bring Aramis back to consciousness. He can only heal him physically. When Lemay leaves, his face is full of sadness and regret.

Athos does not blame him – or hold him accountable.

xxx

Someone bandaged Aramis' head; when they were finished, they ran away and left Aramis alone in the snow. Athos doubts that whoever murdered the other Musketeers was responsible for that. That only leaves one person.

"Was a man named Marsac sent to Savoy?" he asks Treville. He doesn't know why that name seems synonymous with the bandage.

"Yes."

"Is he among the dead?"

"No," Treville replies. "He and Aramis are friends."

Athos notices his choice of words. "You think he's still alive."

"I do."

For the first time in months, something stirs inside Athos' heart that isn't grief. It's anger.

Marsac left Aramis. He left his friend in the forest, surrounded by corpses of their fellow Musketeers. Aramis could have frozen or bled to death. What kind of _coward_ …

A figure in a white dress enters Athos' mind. A noose is around the slender neck.

He closes his eyes.

xxx

Two days later, Aramis opens his eyes. He emerges into the daylight, slowly and shakily.

Athos watches him. He glances to his right and sees Porthos standing there, eyes fixed on the solitary figure.

Together, they approach him.

 **Author's Note: It was obvious that Aramis was good friends with Marsac before Savoy, but that Athos and Porthos weren't. I have a headcanon that the three of them befriended each other properly after the Savoy massacre.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**


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